


we break to grow

by Ladderofyears



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Auror James Sirius Potter, Auror Teddy Lupin, Body Horror, Hanahaki Disease, M/M, Maverick Cop James Sirius Potter, Not Actually Unrequited Love, POV Alternating, POV Teddy Lupin, Pining, Surgery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-02
Updated: 2019-04-02
Packaged: 2020-01-01 00:36:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18325145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ladderofyears/pseuds/Ladderofyears
Summary: James and Teddy are Auror partners. They've known each other all their lives; as brothers, best-friends, and workmates. One terrible day disaster strikes, and James is hit with the Unforgivable Hanahaki Curse.Will James and Teddy come to terms with their feelings, or have they left it too late for love?The Hanahaki Curse: the victim of the curse throws up, and coughs up, flower petals born from their seemingly one-sided love. The infection can be removed by surgery, but that means the feelings disappear alongside the petals. The curse can only be cured by the return of the feelings of love by the object of their affection. There have been no cases where a victim has survived this Unforgivable Curse without the return of their love.





	we break to grow

**Author's Note:**

  * For [whiskyandwildflowers](https://archiveofourown.org/users/whiskyandwildflowers/gifts).



> Thank you to whiskyandwildflowers for your fabulous prompt: a Hanahaki disease trope fic. It's turned into a curse for this story, but the rest of the trope conventions are all here. We've got unrequited love, surgery, and feelings that disappear with the removal of the flowers. 
> 
> Thank you to Goldentruth813 for running this brilliant fest. I've never actually written any Jeddy fic before because your stories are so brilliant that I didn't think I had anything else to add. This prompt, however was too much fun not to attempt.

James stares at the petals floating in the toilet bowl water. _Narcissus_ petals, snowy white; the purple and pink of _Sweet-Peas_. The brash yellow of _Marigolds_. _They’d be beautiful_ , he thinks, his mind subdued by shock, _if they didn’t mean he was going to die_. He rubs his fingers all over his face, and isn’t surprised to see that his hand is red with blood. 

He spits the remainder of the petals into the bowl, these ones spotted red, and quickly flushes away the evidence. A few of the petals have floated to the floor, and James picks these ones up too; wrapping them in paper and disappearing them with his wand. 

James doesn’t trust himself to stand yet. His legs feel like they’ve been hit with a Jelly-Legs Hex, and, from the depths of his chest, he can feel the sandpaper-rasp of another coughing fit start to build. He gingerly places a quivering hand on his racing chest, feeling more helpless than any moment before in his life. 

Flowers are growing inside of him. 

Clogging up his lungs with their petals, their vines twisting and knitting and squeezing his heart. James has been an Auror long enough to know that once the _Hanahaki Curse_ takes hold, the remainder of his life will unfold quickly. James thinks he must have only weeks, a month at the most. Those delicate blooms will fill his lungs, and suffocate him. 

Roots will wrap around his ribcage, and thorny, green stems will progress up through his throat. In weeks, James won’t be able to speak, or walk. He won’t be able to move his body or even breathe without magic to aid him. He’ll be trapped, his body betrayed by this stray little curse _so_ determined to return him to the earth. And yes, Healers will try to cut it away. They’ll open him up, and dig out the roots, cut away the stems and vanish the petals. 

But that will mean that his love will die, too. 

James knows the only cure for the _Hanahaki Curse_ is love. The love of a man he’s known all his life. The love of a man whom James hardly dares to murmur the name of now. That is the true curse of _Hanahaki_ : to truly acknowledge the depth of his love, and admit then the futility of his feelings would be his death sentence. Nothing would make the curse spread faster than the knowledge his love wasn’t returned. 

And James doesn't _want_ to lose his love; doesn’t want to lose that small hope he’s nurtured in his heart since he was a child. If cutting away the flowers means cutting away his desires, then James wants to wait one more day. _That’ll be enough_ , James hopes. Enough to say goodbye to his feelings forever. 

But James isn’t even able to have that. 

Standing shakily, the movement is too sudden, and James’ knees give way, his body convulsing under as more petals fly from his throat, silken, raw and vicious. James feels a tearing in his chest as he collapses amongst the ethereal, gossamer petals that will be his undoing. 

////

In the minutes and hours afterwards, I couldn’t really comprehend what had happened. 

_Shock_ , I suppose. It had meant to be simple, straightforward. 

All we were doing was checking an address, following up on a lead. An environmental terrorist group, dedicated to the eradication of magical creatures, and other animals, in any sort of potion had been terrorising apothecaries, magical laboratories and breeding centres throughout Europe, and they’d been using the _Hanahaki Curse_ to deadly effect against the owners of these facilities. 

Two wizards had already died, and the Department of Magical Law Enforcement was putting considerable resources behind making sure that a third didn’t join them. I’ve heard that its a horrible way to go, and the last thing the Ministry wants is a mass panic on its hands. As a result, James and I were put onto the case straight away. 

And yes, I _know_ what people say. 

They think that we get the easiest cases, the least dangerous. They think that because James is Harry Potter’s son, and I’m his Godson we get all the cushiest cases. Well, I can assure you right now that is pure bollocks. If anything, Harry expects more from us both. _More_ evidence. _More_ paperwork. Longer hours. 

If I didn’t love him like the father I never knew, I swear I’d hex the ground he walked on. 

And this morning our meeting with him was just same as any other I can remember. James and I were reporting back on our progress to the Lead Auror Potter. We’d had what I thought was some excellent information, and we both agreed warranted immediate investigation: an address off the side of _Knockturn_ , in a dilapidated, abandoned building. 

An inmate at Azkaban had said it’d been used as a bolthole in the old days, and that the gang might be storing untraceable wands, brewing Polyjuice or just laying low before the next attack… It was the best lead we’d had in days, and I knew James was as keen to move on the information as I was. 

But, Harry, of course, had advised caution. 

“We can’t trust the source, Teddy… I’d be negligent if I let you go without further investigation. The wizard who told you about the address has links to environmental terrorism that go back twenty years… And its not as if he stands to lose any time off his sentence if the group are brought in… He’s a killer, too dangerous to be on the streets. Bring me more information, and I'll give you the backup...”

James had scoffed, furious with his father. As soon as we were out of the building, my partner was rounding on me, his face red with vehemence. James’ body was quivering in temper, and he had his wand out, rolling it between his fingers distractedly. 

“We can’t let this lie, Teds!” James had muttered, leaning against the wall. “I think dads bloody well lost it. We need to move on this now, _today_. Before they move on, and we’re stuck twiddling into our bloody cauldrons!…I say we just apparate over there, have a little look, ask a few questions… What the old man doesn’t know won’t hurt him, and if we see any, thing interesting then we’ll say an anonymous owl brought it in. Can’t hurt.”

What’s that thing the Muggles say? _Famous last words?_

The thing about James is, he doesn’t really play by the rules. 

Harry gives him a lot of leeway, but he knows as well as I do that he’s a bloody brilliant Auror. James is an incredibly loyal, committed and hard-working and his mind makes these _leaps_ , I suppose you’d call them. Like he can just see how to solve a case. But James is impetuous. That's why I’m his partner. I mean, we’re practically bloody related, and he’s my best friend to boot. It goes against all the rules that we should work together. Talk about keeping it in the family. 

He was on his final suspension when I was made his partner, Harry insistent that I take him under my wing, and teach him how to keep a cool head. I’m six years older than James, you see, and a whole lot calmer in my actions. And being partners? Its bloody well _worked_. We’ve an almost unconscious ability to know what the other is thinking, and rarely disagree about our cases. Not to mention, we’ve got the highest number of arrests in the Department, and James has kept his nose clean for about two years now. Not even a _Howler_.

But today I had _zero_ influence. James wasn’t backing down, and I knew better than to push him. I didn’t need a stinging hex to add to my troubles. 

Harry had seemingly touched some nerve, and there was no way that James was letting this lead die. Before I’d even acquiesced, James had sideways apparated us to _Knockturn_. I had a bad feeling as soon as I saw the building: ward-less, deserted and on the verge of ruin. There seemed to be dearth of wizarding businesses in the area, and I felt a terrible sense of unease. We were exposed, and vulnerable, with no prospect of backup. 

Worse still, the building hadn’t even been secured with a _Colloportus_. 

All my senses were telling me to back off, to _get away_ , but James had strode forward, entering the building with his wand held in a light grip. And I know I should have shouted out, told James to pull back but I felt like my legs were walking me forward without my brain’s consent. 

Wand out, I followed my partner into the abandoned building. 

And it was a trap, just like Harry had known it would be. The terrorists were onto us in moments, and we were outnumbered, out-cursed and overwhelmed, the fight over in seconds. I was taken out easily with a _Crucio_ , before I could even mutter a counter-curse. All my DADA training just disintegrated into dust as I saw my best friend, my fucking brother, cursed right in front of my eyes. _Hanahaki_ , with a flash of glowing green light. 

And that means only one thing. James Potter, the best person I know, is cursed to _die_. A bloody Unforgivable. But only if he’s fallen in love. And I’d know, I think, if there was somebody. 

He’d have told me. 

////

When the curse hits James there isn’t any pain. 

Knocked to the floor, unable to move, he feels the magic tendrils spreading unrelentingly thorough his body. He feels the _Hanahaki_ coil through his veins, feels it entwine with his soul. And its _cold_ ; colder than he’s ever have imagined. _The curse is a part of him now_ , James thinks, as the world goes black around him. 

James wakes up in St. Mungos. His chest throbs dully, and his throat is scratchy and tight. His dad is sat beside him, his features naked with anger and fear. There are lines of worry etched into his face that James cannot remember seeing before, and James swallows; suddenly terrified by the words he knows his father is going to say. 

“You’re a damned, bloody fool James,” Harry spits out, infuriated and heartbroken. “Teddy and you both… I knew you’d pull a stunt like this. So _bloody clever_ , weren't you, rushing in, wands drawn? It was a trap, and you fell straight into it… The _Hanahaki Curse_? You’re their big name James. Their fucking _martyr_. Their best act of terrorism yet. I’ve got the bastards in a cell, but that means nothing! There isn’t a remedy, James-”

And James watches as his dad, the strongest man he’s ever known breaks down into tears, his body shuddering with anguish. Both of them are quiet for a moment while the older man composes himself. 

“And the Healers have found some petals in your lungs already… So there’s obviously someone. They’re your cure. Is it the same man you loved when you were younger, Jamie? Do you think they could love you back?… Otherwise there’s the surgical option, but if your love runs too deep then this _Hanahaki_ will just return. You have to tell me, Jamie, please. Is it him?”

But James can’t speak. 

He can’t face telling his dad, telling the world, that _yes_ , he loves him still. His shocking, stupid love that would _Confringo_ his family, just explode his parents trust and everything he holds close to his heart. His ridiculous love that he dare not even speak the name of. 

“One more day,” James eventually murmurs, his voice a low rasp that he doesn’t recognise. “Then I’ll get the surgery… I promise”. 

Even the pressure of speaking these few words is too much, and James is seized by a coughing fit. Silken petals of white, purple, red and yellow spill from his lips, fill his hands, and force themselves through his fingertips. The petals litter James’ pillow and quilt, their colours so beautiful and deadly against the stark white of the hospital bedsheets. 

“Get the surgery, James,” Harry implores, anguished at the sight. “You’ll lose your feelings anyway when… If this kills you.”

////

Honestly, of all the people I’ve ever met in my life, only James could manage _this_. 

Cursed to die of love? Only James could escalate a simple crush to this level of drama, and get all of our family terrified out of their wits. I’m livid of course. Not only am I bloody suspended, but my best-friend is bloody _dying_. 

I visit him in the hospital, rounding on him in my anger. 

“I’m not even shocked you could get yourself in this much trouble. That is par-of-the- _bloody_ -course. The only thing that’s shocked me is that you could love somebody more than you love yourself! Who is it then? And you couldn’t even tell me before?”

James hasn’t spoken yet, but even I can see that he’s devastated. He’s only been in the high-dependency curse ward for twelve hours, but his skin is tinged grey. James’ lips are dry and chapped, and his eyes are haunted. I’m ashamed because my words have him flinching too. I just can’t believe he’s kept this person a secret from me. I thought we told each other everything, but it seems I was wrong about that too. 

I drop down beside him in the chair, all the anger rushing out of me like a wave. 

A pathetic little cough escapes from James’ mouth, and I watch his chest is heaving. I can see how much of a strain this _Hanahaki_ is putting on his body. He’s struggling to draw breath as his body expels the blooms. James chokes around them, unable to stop, and can see his brown eyes fill with tears as he starts to panic. There’s a sheen of sweat on his forehead, and before I'm even aware of it my arms are wrapped around his shoulders. 

We sit there, neither of us speaking till I see the panic receding, and I hear the coughing subside. James body is shuddering in my arms and I realise he’s crying. The petals have slowed to a trickle, but they still cover the both of us, like confetti. 

“Merlin, James,” I say, moving myself back into the chair. “You’ve kept your cards close to your chest with whomever this chap is. He’s a bloody lucky man. You’re an utter pain in the arse, and completely reckless… But your feelings do run deep, that much is obvious. Wish you could manage half that passion for me, mate.” 

I pick up a handful of the petals, and they feel like silk under my fingertips. I watch as James closes his eyes. 

I’ve know James Potter my whole life, and honestly, I think this is the first time I’ve seen him speechless. 

Six years is a lot when you’re a kid, and, to tell you the truth, James wasn’t much more than a baby when I went to Hogwarts. And yes, I’ll admit that I resented him _terribly_ when he was born. Gods, I just adored Harry as a kid. Saviour of the Wizarding World? And sweet and funny as well? I could just about accept sharing him with Ginny: after all, I’d never known Harry without her. 

But _Jamie?_ From the first, I couldn’t abide that little interloper. 

When he was born, I remember my whole body churning with jealousy, the lump in my throat like a bezoar that I couldn’t dislodge. I could see how much Harry adored him, and it broke my heart to know this was what I’d missed. Yes, I’ve seen photos of my dad, but _nothing_ bridges the gap of not having any memories of someone. And Harry was all I’d ever had for a role-model. It seemed to my five-year-old self that all he cared about was this mewling, pink-skinned little monster. 

So, I’m ashamed to say, I took that out on James. 

I didn’t want to know him, didn’t want to be interested. I wouldn’t talk to him or even look in his direction. I think I managed to keep that going for about a year, until he was starting to walk and talk. And you know what the little buggers first word was? _Teddy_. I know, sickening, isn’t it? If I’m honest, I think it was the multicoloured hair he liked far more than me.

But, after that, I couldn’t help it. I felt all my walls crumbling. 

And it wasn’t like we were the closest of mates growing up. Like I said before, six years is a long time when you’re a kid. But we’d mess about a bit. I showed him how to catch a toy snitch, showed him how to mount a broom. And when Albus arrived, well, that cemented our bond: we had a common enemy stealing Harry’s attention. We grew apart a bit when I went to Hogwarts, but we still met up in the holidays. I’d show him the new spells I’d learnt and tell him any funny gossip about teachers. I think I just liked showing off, making him laugh. It was always easy with Jamie. 

But James and I had a terrible falling-out for two years when I dated Victoire. Then I left England for America once I graduated. Andromeda had moved over there to live with Narcissa, and I wanted to get to know that part of my family better. I trained in Magical Law Enforcement under MACUSA, and, really, James wasn’t really a part of my life at that point. 

I returned because of Harry. He needed people he could trust in the DMLE, and I was, and still am, unfailingly loyal to my Godfather. 

And James? _Well_. He certainly wasn’t the same spoilt Gryffindor kid that I remembered. 

I was smitten immediately, of course: Jamie was gorgeous, fit and funny? He’d grown up in all the _best_ ways. We had some nice little shags for a couple of months, and honestly? The thrill of sneaking around behind our family was so bloody hot. We were having a lot of fun together. I think James would have taken things further, but our lives just got in the way. 

Harry made us Auror partners, and tasked me with bringing James back in line. We got caught up solving cases, and since then, James has become one of the finest Aurors in the department. Its absolutely against the rules to sleep with your colleagues, and I knew couldn’t let Harry down like that. I feel like I’m his son, too, and I couldn't imagine him ever forgiving me. 

Anyway, its too late now. 

James has his mystery man, causing us all such bloody wretchedness. 

I only wish I knew who it is. I’d like to ring their neck, or hex them to pieces. Jamie is still the finest man I know, and if I had my time again, then I know I’d make different choices. If they can’t see how much James loves them, then I think they are an absolute bloody fool. 

////

James watches his mum and dad talk with the Healers that are in charge of his treatment.

James is shocked to see the daze of sorrow in his mothers eyes. _If I die_ , he realises, _mum will lose her spark forever_. His parents look like they’ve aged ten years in only day. Dad’s face, normally so authoritative and powerful, looks slack and defeated. 

Harry and Ginny watch as the Healers perform a spell on James, one that wraps his body in glistening blue light. The blue is marred with ribbons of dark red that converge in the places where his lungs, heart and throat are. 

The Healers are shocked, their professional masks slipping as they take in the image in front of them. _How deep are the roots of this love, if they have embedded themselves so deeply in so short a time?_ But James knows the truth. There’s never been a time when he didn’t have this love. Those bonds you make as a child are the ones that you hold in your heart forever. This grotesque garden, this _Hanahaki_ has done nothing but expose the truth of that love to the world. 

This love was already there; seeded. Waiting. Biding its time to bloom. James would like to speak; to console the family he loves. He’s been silenced, charmed quiet with a Silencio to stop him damaging his throat further. 

“Thank you for making the trip, gentlemen,” Harry tells the Healers. “and examining my son. I must admit, I’m still worried as to what the outcome will be. Your initial consultation didn’t appease my fears, and this diagnostic spell… The _Hanahaki_ \- It looks like its spread far beyond the lungs-”

“Yes indeed,” says the younger of the two Healers, unbowed by their Saviour's distress. “I’ll admit… Yes, the roots of the flowers are deeply established. This is a love that your son has held for many, many years. I believe that this object of his affection, and these feelings have been a part of his life for a very long time… And that is why the _Hanahaki_ has spread so fast. Its an integral part of his very being.”

“Obviously, there’s nothing you can do-” interrupts Ginny, her face closed and grey. “You’re telling me that my son will die from _loving_ too deeply? Of a love he’s apparently had most of his life?”

“This is a rare, and dangerous curse, Ms. Potter,” says the elder Healer, “and there is none at St. Mungos’ that could claim to be an expert. But while I do think the love your son holds is deeply entrenched, I also think he has learnt over many years to hide this love from other people, as well as the object of his desire. James’ coping strategies have shielded his body so far… I do not think the pollen has entered his bloodstream yet-”

“And that means?” asks Harry, bluntly. James can see that dad is running his fingers through his hair, the anxiety thrumming, vibrating through his fathers body. 

“It means that we can still operate. Had the pollen have spread, well… The effect would have been a _disaster_. But your son is a _fighter_ , Mr. and Mrs. Potter. He’s loved this individual for years and never succumbed to a broken-heart yet. We’re going to open him up. Remove the seeds, the roots… The flowers. Disappear any remaining pollen. And, of course, the emotions. James’ love for this person will be removed as well. _Hanahaki_ has never been known to survive the removal of the feelings.”

James blinks up towards the hospital ceiling as they prep him for the operation. 

Powerful anaesthetising potions are being pumped into his veins, and the world around him is becoming distant and blurry. James starts to panic as they are counting him down to unconsciousness. James just can’t remember how he got here, and what it _was_ that he was supposed to remember. _Who_ is was that that he needed to remember. 

There’s an itch, a thought niggling in the back of his mind. Something he needed to tell someone. Something important. As the darkness descends, James can’t hold onto ideas or even words.

The colour turquoise fills his mind, that same bright, beautiful tone as his best friends hair. And as James prepares to lose his true love forever, that feels like a comfort. 

////

So, James’ surgery turned out to be a bit more extensive than even the Healer’s had imagined. When they opened him up, they found that the flowers had grown quite a bit more than the diagnostic spell had shown. 

Thank _Merlin_ , the pollen hadn’t spread into the bloodstream yet, although Harry said we were only hours away from losing Jamie forever. 

And yes, as you can see, my Godfather _is_ talking to me again. 

I don’t think either Jamie or my career at the DMLE is going to come out unscathed after the debacle that was our unauthorised raid on the environmental terrorists, but being truly honest? I’m not sure I care. Turns out, your best friend nearly dying puts things in perspective, and I’ve started to change my mind about a few things. 

James Sirius Potter, specifically. 

It’s been three weeks since James was released into my care, the operation having been declared a success. Jamie can’t go home because he’s a surviving witness, and Harry told me privately not to leave him alone. He was melancholy; _brooding_ back at the hospital. Dwelling on what he’d lost. All of the blooms were removed, but more importantly, the feelings of romantic love were taken away as well. 

And I’ve still no _clue_ as to who the chap was. Every time I try and discuss it with Jamie, his expression just goes cold and distant. He won’t say a word about the subject. Whomever he was has gone. Well, they were a fortunate person. To have been loved so deeply, and for such a long time. I only hope they never realise quite what they have lost. 

I haven’t pressured James to speak. 

James’ physical recovery has been slow, so we’ve been spending a lot of time sat on the sofa, reading and siting in companionable silence. Listening to the Quidditch on the wireless. Drinking cups of tea in Muggle cafes. 

Merlin, we’ve even been reading. I think its the first time I’ve finished a book since bloody Hogwarts. It’s slow, and boring and _wonderful_. The thing is, neither I nor James have ever just _existed_ like this. 

We were never Aurors that could wait for backup, we always had to rush in and save the day. And it was the same in the rest of our existence. If our lives weren't _bigger, better, faster, more_ then they weren't good enough. But Jamie seems different, now. More comfortable in his own skin. He can look me in the eye. He doesn't flinch any more, when my hand brushes against his. It’s like we’re closer than we’ve ever been in our lives. 

A week ago we went to see Ginny’s team, the Holyhead Harpies. And normally we’d both be stood, screaming insults and drinking Firewhiskey from our hip-flasks. As it was, we sat, wrapped up tight against the cool of the autumn afternoon. I pushed a paper bag from Jamie’s favourite cafe across to him, and he smiled, unwrapping each item affectionately. 

“We used to go there, didn’t we?” James asked me quietly, examining the chocolate muffin carefully, “Back when you came back from America?… When we were together, I mean. Before you got too worried about what dad would think-””

“Yeah. We went there for a date once,” I interrupted. “And yes, I was worried about what Harry would think if it ever came out... Turns out all my priorities were skewed then Jamie. I made some decisions that I wouldn’t make now-”

“It wasn’t a date, it was just coffee” James replied then, his face shuttering closed. “Teddy, I don’t think this is-”

“Well, if that wasn’t a date, you fooled me,” I muttered, aware that my smile was flickering away.

You see, I’ve fallen in _love_ with James Potter. 

Fallen in love with the beautiful boy that I’ve known since the day he was born. Fallen in love with my impudent Auror partner. Fallen in love with my ex-lover. That’s what happens when you nearly lose a person. You start to see what was in front of your eyes all along. I don’t know who is was that Jamie loved. I don’t think that he’s ever going to tell me. Maybe I’ll only ever be a poor imitation of that man in James eyes, but perhaps that'll be enough. 

And last night, when he came through with a cup of coffee, I told him. 

“I love you,” I stated. The words fell from my mouth before I had chance to reign them in, hanging in the air between us. I felt my cheeks flush, and I stopped short of pressing on. Jamie’s face was confused, but his eyes were dark with anger. 

“You don’t,” he said, placing the coffee down carefully, the hint of a tremor in his hands. “You can’t. You’ve got no right to be saying these things-”

“I _do love you_. I loved you when we were kids. When you were a daft teenager trailing after me. When we were _lovers_ …” I swallowed. “I loved you when you walked into that bloody building and there wasn’t a thing I could do to stop you. I just didn’t realise it until now-”

“Stop! Just bloody _stop_ will you?” James cries, and I break off what I’m saying to actually look at him. Tears are rolling down his face, and he’s clasping his wiry black hair like a man demented. “You’re bloody confused… I get it, I do. We’re together here, and it’s _great_ , it is. Its better between us than its ever been. And I was in love, and ill. It’s no wonder that you feel-”

“Don’t tell me what I feel!-” and I’m ashamed to say that I’m shouting now. “I’m not confused. I know my own _bloody _mind! Just because I’m not your _true love_ … The man you nearly died for. Well, where was he when you were on your back in the hospital? I love you-”__

“Please,” James said, “stop saying that-” 

“I love you, Jamie… I’m sorry, but I do.” 

I opened my mouth, but Jamie had disappeared. Apparated far away from me. I reached out for him, trying to grasp onto his shoulder. But he’d gone, and for the fist time in three weeks we were apart. I thought maybe I’d feel the shiver of his magic against my skin, but I knew in my heart that it had already left me too. 

//// 

James sits in his mother’s flower garden. In his hand he holds a single crimson _Camellia_ petal. 

All it took was three stupid words from Teddy, and the _Hanahaki Curse_ has returned. All his love has flowed back, and alongside those the blooms have returned to choke him once more. All his wretched feelings, all his love that runs so deeply in his psyche that all the Healer’s in St. Mungos’ couldn’t rid him of them. 

And James knows he’s ridiculous, that Teddy could never truly love him. 

James has loved Teddy all his life. Loved him when he was a child, and Teddy was the funny boy who swung him by the shoulders and made him laugh. Loved him as a teenager, when just the mere sight of him was enough to make him mute with lust. Loved Teddy with his mind, and then with his body. And in all that time, Teddy has never, _ever_ loved him back. 

_Too big an age gap, Jamie. We’re family. We can’t let Harry find out. We’d lose our jobs._

Teddy’s words roll like a beat through his brain. James feels the familiar tightening in his chest, the dry drag of panic as he feels his chest tighten, his breath constrict. And James knows that this isn’t romantic. _Hanahaki_ isn’t beautiful or tragic. He’s stricken, and fearful. The physical pain of his broken heart has wrecked him from the inside out. This is a love that’s too strong to let go, and James will never believe it can be reciprocated. 

And this time, James decides that he won’t forget again. 

The surgery had left him with a strange detachment; an empty space in his memories where his love used to live. Another series of coughs make James’ whole body shudder, and the petals spill once more into his open hands, red and calamitous. He holds them to his lips, so tightly that some get crushed. Their aftertaste is soil, and sun and grief. 

And James _refuses_ to forget again. 

He can’t forget their long lazy days sat together on the settee playing Gobstones or afternoons practising Quidditch. He doesn’t want to forget the vanilla fragrance of Teddy’s shampoo, or the way they’d work together on their cases unknotting each statement, interrogating the evidence and finding the truth. Sometimes they would stay in the office late into the evening, arguing, debating, sharing Pumpkin Pasties as they worked. And when James was overwhelmed, only Teddy’s large strong hands would calm him, curled around his waist or shoulders, caressing his sharp bones and _grounding_ him like no other individual on their earth. 

Each petal is proof of his failure, his absolute worthlessness. For if Teddy loved him truly, then James knows he could breathe once more. 

//// 

Three days after my declaration of love, and James is back home with his parents. 

Harry comes to find me, after my floo calls are refused and my owls return, their letters unopened. We sit in my lounge, and I watch my Godfather’s fingers tremble around the tea I’ve made him. His hair, so very much like Jamie’s, is greyer than I can remember, and his eyes are lined. 

The greatest hero of our age sits next to me a broken man; humbled and brought low by force of love he holds for his son. 

“He’s dying, Teddy.” Harry states, not harshly. “Dying because of the strength of his love. He refuses to have the surgery again, and I’m not convinced it would work. His love… Those feelings are like the roots of his person. They make Jamie who he is. They’re intrinsic to his personality-” 

Harry sighs, moving to his feet. Anxiety courses off his person, infecting me. 

“And the man? Jamie’s beloved?,” I ask hesitantly, sickeningly aware of the truth of Harry’s next words. 

“Its always been you, Teddy. When the curse first hit, I knew it was you. There’s never been anyone else for Jamie. Not since he was a child. The disease is in its final stages… We’re having to use our magic to keep him alive as it is… His lungs are collapsing, and his throat is choked with blooms. And he won’t consider surgery again. We have to spell oxygen into his bloodstream. _Your words_ , Teddy… They’ve brought him to his knees-” 

“I want to _fix_ this,” I shout, “I know I love James. I couldn’t face my feelings before. I… I couldn’t let you down. I don’t understand why he is sick still… His love is requited. Let me see him, Harry. Let me convince him-” 

“Convince him of what, Teddy? He’s twenty three, and you’ve known him _all his life_. And you’ve never seen fit to love him before. Never seen fit to utter those words before. If he believed you were sure about him, then the _Hanahaki Curse_ would die. But he doesn’t trust your words. You’re years too late with them.” 

Harry is angry now, his breath coming in uneven spurts. He thumps down the tea cup, and turning his whole body to face me. 

“He doesn’t want to believe you, Teddy. He’s scared. This love… well, it’s been a part of him since he was born. And its been safer just to hide it away. Be your friend. Your partner. To give over to it would mean risking everything. You. His family. His job...” 

“Then I’ll _show_ him.” I’m oddly calm as I say this, words flowing unformed from my heart. “If words aren’t sufficient, then it seems I’ve got to take action… I love Jamie, and I’m not about to let him die. Put the curse on _me_ , Harry. Let me prove to Jamie that without his requited love I would be willing to die too -” 

“You’re a bloody fool, Teddy!” Harry say, aghast at my plan. “You really trust your feelings that strongly? These feelings you’ve only just admitted to yourself… How do I know you’re even sure about this? What happens next week, or next month, when you realise your feelings aren't what you imagined? When you realise you were just _infatuated_?… 

But as I sit there, listening to Harry outline every reason why this is a bad idea, I know that I don’t have a choice. I’ve been blind; the love of my life has always been right here, stood next to me. James is my best friend, my brother and my partner. I’m not going to let him go ever again. 

“I’m not infatuated, Harry. I know my own mind… Put the _Hanahaki_ on me, or I’ll cast it against myself. If I don’t love James, then no flowers will bloom inside me. And if they do, then you’ll know my feelings are genuine. Please. Put the curse on me -” 

The look that Harry gives me then is furious: disparaging and distrustful. What I'm asking is anathema to everything the man believes in. Harry is a man that's spent his life battling the forces of dark magic. That I’d ask him to do this is selfish, and wrong. But Jamie is too important to me now, and I’m willing to break Harry’s heart to save him. The thought of James not existing in the world, of our not having _more time_ , is unspeakable to me. I want this, I think more than I’ve wanted anything in my life. 

And I know my Godfather; I can see in the narrowing of his green eyes that he’s wavering. Family is everything to Harry, and I know he would pluck out his _own_ heart were it to save his firstborn's life. Harry is given away by the involuntary flick of his finger towards his wand holster. 

“Do it,” I whisper, holding my hands open in a gesture of willingness. “Let me save Jamie’s life. Let me have my true love. Let me-” 

But I don’t get any further. I feel all the air leave my body; feel my magic cascading in reverberating, tumbling waves as I’m thrown onto the floor with the force of the curse hitting my side. My skin feels scorched, and there's a burning pain radiating outwards from my lungs that I can feel growing, feel _taking root_ , inside me. 

//// 

James knows he is dying. 

Confined to bed, James tries to collect the fallen petals. He wishes these flowers; his love, his _Hanahaki_ , could be transformed into something beautiful rather than just a signal of his ruined body. James is broken. His head throbs and his magic is gone. He can taste earth and blood in his mouth; and the aroma of pollen assaults his senses. 

Somewhere in the back of his mind, James feels a hand against the side of his face, fingertips running through his matted, sweaty hair. Even without opening his eyes, Jamie can sense that it is _Teddy_. 

His eyelids are sticky, and when he forces open his eyes James’ vision is blurred. 

Tears fall, tumbling down his face and joining the petals that encircle his head like a halo. James raises a trembling hand to his beloveds face. James wants to _remember_. Remember Teddy’s ever-changing hair, remember his impatient frowns. Commit to memory the lazy smile and the hazel of his eyes. He wants to remember their long days in the office and their weekends lazing, laughing and drinking together. He wants to recollect Teddy’s shining open face, and the way his words, his care, could ground him like no other. 

James needs to remember all of this because he's already missing all things he’ll _never_ have. 

James misses the long, sensuous kisses beneath the stars and short, dirty kisses beneath the sheets of their home. Misses celebrating their wedding, and the anniversaries that they’d share with the children they’d adopt and love. Misses seeing their children off on the Hogwarts Express and laughing thorough his tears with the man beside him. Misses growing old, happy in the knowledge that Teddy Lupin has been a part of his life since the day he was _born_ , and will forever be so until the day he _dies_. 

James feels Teddy’s hand guide him towards his mouth. He can hear the rustling sound of Teddy’s seizing chest as it gasps for breath, and hear his deep, exhausting cough too. James eyes widen in shock when he feels the damp warmth of petals on his fingers. The _petals_ of purple violets, so dark they are nearly back, flutter from his hands and mix with his own. 

“I love you,” Teddy says, his voice a rasping whisper. “And I… I always have. I know that now. And I’ve let our lives get in the way. I’ve wasted so much time-” 

Teddy doubles over, his whole body shaking under the force of his cough, his face wet with tears. 

“So much time. And I don’t want a life without you, Jamie. The _Hanahaki_ is proof of that. Every petal, every flower is proof. Proof that I love you like I say… And I will forever. Only love can keep us safe, can keep us together Jamie.” 

And then James is _reaching_ for Teddy then, taking the other man in his arms. 

Their faces are wet against each other, the scent, the _taste_ of violets and camellias mixing in his mouth. James can feel the powerful warmth of Teddy’s hands holding him, anchoring him. Teddy is pulling him back from the abyss. 

And the kiss, this kiss is saving James. Saving his life, and giving him his future. Giving him the kisses, the love, the family and the years, and years they’ll have to share with each other. 

And James can feel the air filling his lungs, feel the vines untwist from his heart. James can feel the curse leaving his body, replaced only by joyfulness and delight. He spits the final few petals from his mouth, smiling at the love coursing through him. James is _safe_ ; safe with Teddy. Safe in his arms, and safe in the knowledge that their love is mutual and true. 

Opening his eyes fully, Jamie can see Teddy, and then they are kissing again.

Soft, and unhurried; James and Teddy have the luxury of their whole lifetime. 

**Author's Note:**

> and what do  
> the flower buds  
> pushing up from  
> the broken earth  
> say about you?
> 
> we break  
> to grow  
> -pavana
> 
> Thank you so much for reading xxxx


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